Breakers' historian, 95, transports guests to the past

James Ponce

Amy Beth Bennett, Sun Sentinel

James Ponce, 95, leads a tour at the Breakers hotel in West Palm Beach on Tuesday, Aug. 14, 2012. Ponce has been giving the weekly tours for the past 30 years and worked at the hotel for an additional 30 years prior. His dad worked with Henry Flagler, who built the Breakers, back in Ponce's hometown of St. Augustine.

James Ponce, 95, leads a tour at the Breakers hotel in West Palm Beach on Tuesday, Aug. 14, 2012. Ponce has been giving the weekly tours for the past 30 years and worked at the hotel for an additional 30 years prior. His dad worked with Henry Flagler, who built the Breakers, back in Ponce's hometown of St. Augustine. (Amy Beth Bennett, Sun Sentinel)

Doreen Hemlock, Sun Sentinel

To hear historian James Ponce tell it, you'd think you were back in Old Florida — when Henry Flagler built the luxury Breakers hotel in an area known for farmhouses, when a fire burned the hotel down likely from "a newfangled curling iron" left plugged in, and when guests donned gowns and tuxedos for nine-course dinners to pass the time during winter-long stays.

At age 95, Ponce still mesmerizes groups with stories of The Breakers Palm Beach, every Tuesday and by request. He's been leading groups through the legendary hotel for 30 years, after working there on and off for 30 more. That's enough time to earn him Palm Beach County's highest tourism award in 2011 and to be dubbed by a previous mayor as "Palm Beach's only two-legged, historical landmark."

"I think I'll draw the line at 100, if I make it that long," Ponce says after a recent tour, as children happily posed for pictures with their unique guide garbed in period clothes: a Panama hat, blue blazer with golden buttons, a fitted vest with pocket watch and a brass-topped cane.

Ponce comes from an Old Florida family that knew and literally buried Flagler, the former Standard Oil executive who pioneered tourism along the state's east coast. Ponce's father ran the funeral home in St. Augustine, where Flagler built hotels and was buried, and the elder Ponce carried Flagler's casket in 1913.

The historianwas born at Flagler's hospital in St. Augustine and has woven his life with Flagler's since.

"The ground underneath us hasn't changed hands since Flagler bought it in 1893," he quips. "And you can't say that about much in Florida."

In 60 years working at The Breakers and studying it, Ponce says he's most impressed by how the clientele has changed with commercial aviation.

Before planes, wealthy guests arrived by train with steamer trunks to stay the winter season. They played parlor games and dressed for formal dinners that lasted hours. At night, they strolled the courtyard and gardens, often nodding or stopping to talk since so many knew each other from spending winter together.

"It was almost like a clubhouse," he says. "You didn't have to tell a man that you don't come to the front lobby without a coat and tie. He knew."

After planes, travelers came for shorter stays. Younger guests brought children, who years earlier were not allowed in the main dining room, and with their nannies, were sent to eat elsewhere. Guests today hardly know each other, as different groups stream in and out, some checking in for just one night.

Before planes, an outing might have been a steamship voyage. Flagler built the first Port of Palm Beach at the resort, a 1,000-foot-pier, where steamers docked to take guests to Nassau, Havana and Key West. The pier was later submerged by a hurricane, and now welcomes scuba divers and snorkelers, Ponce says.

Air conditioning also transformed the resort, prompting it in 1971 to open year-round, instead of serving guests only mid-December to mid-April. Before air conditioning, all rooms had two doors, louvered and solid, so guests could open them as needed for cross-ventilation, he says.

"When we think of history we often think of people and places, but there is another component ... the art of telling the story," said Carmen Carbone, The Breakers' director of recreation. "This is what our guests love about Mr. Ponce, our history here at The Breakers and his ability to share it so vividly."

On Ponce's tours, visitors see details they might miss on their own. In the 1886 painting "The Sultan's Favorite," part of Flagler's original art collection, the carpet seems to change directions and follow you as you walk past. And in a Gold Room mural, one noble-looking man is painted with his back to the group, facing away.

"It might have been put in for humor, you never know," Ponce says jokingly.

Most of all, Ponce transports guests to times gone by: when in World War II, the resort became an Army hospital and welcomed Eleanor Roosevelt and President Harry Truman who were visiting the troops. Or in the roaring '20s, when contractors built the resort's elegant main buildings in a record 11 1/2 months.

"We couldn't even get the building permits in that time today," he says, playfully.

Ponce never planned to lead tours for decades. He came to The Breakers as a room clerk during the 1951-52 winter season, left for a job at a year-round property and returned later as an assistant manager. When he retired in 1982, the activities director asked him to help out with tours during her six-week sabbatical. Guests liked his stories and personality, and the rest is, well, history.

Ponce says the gig has brought perks, earning him a spot with Willard Scott on NBC's "Today" show when West Palm Beach celebrated its 100th anniversary in 1994. And though his eyesight may be waning, he still revels in the chance to share his memories and rich stories with hotel visitors.

"Anyone 95 who can say they are doing a bit of work," adds Ponce, "it's an accomplishment."